


Bailan

by NuttersandAcorn (orphan_account)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Asexual Character, M/M, Prompt Fill, dance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-28
Updated: 2013-04-28
Packaged: 2017-12-09 20:31:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/777695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/NuttersandAcorn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock and Greg take a break to have a dance. Prompt fill.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bailan

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt fill for thepalefool. "If someone could write me a Sherlock and Lestrade dancing at John’s and Mary’s wedding fic I would be the happiest person in the world. Please? :D"

“All right! All right! Let’s do something a bit slower, shall we?”

The crowd cheers some. Sherlock’s sitting some ways back, hands clasped in his lap. He hasn’t moved since he sat there an hour ago, watching and deducing the guests.  _He was attacked by his cat on his leg, she’s a coffee addict, she originated in Russia and shouldn’t even be here._  The music for the slow dance starts to play, and John and Mary are pulled onto the dance floor for the first dance.

Someone tugs at Sherlock’s sleeve, and he looks up. Greg quietly stands next to him, staring ahead. “I need to talk to you outside.”

“Oh, no, you don’t. You want something else.”

Greg laughs. “You smartass. C’mon.” He tugs at Sherlock’s sleeve again before going. Sherlock follows, watching and deducing his movements.  _Excited, nervous, hoping._

Greg stops a bit away. The music could still be heard. Sherlock frowns, and is about to ask something with Greg holds out a hand.

“Oh.”

He wants a dance. A private dance.

Without a word, Sherlock pulls at Greg’s hand and twirls him into his arms. Greg looks fazed, at first, but he had expected something like this to happen, knowing Sherlock.

They do not speak. They sway, listening, as one. Sherlock leads, then Greg, then Sherlock. They lock eyes. Sherlock deduces carefully, predicting next moves, twirling once or twice when the beat hits the chorus.

By now, back at the reception, more couples are on the dance floor - Molly wonders where they both went off to.

The music fades, and their movements stop. No one pulls back. “You’re decent,” Sherlock mutters.

“Well, I have been to several weddings in my lifetime. I think this is your first.” He turns, feet sliding against the grass. There is no music.

“I went to one in 1995. The reception flopped.”

“Mm. Was that in part to you or your brother?”

“An old friend from uni.” Sherlock chuckles, and their movements gain speed, changing from a slow dance to a tango. Greg turns from expert to clumsy, feet sliding around awkwardly at the sudden change of pace. “I take it back. You’re shit.”

“Sherlock. We should get back.”

They stop as cheers come from the reception. Music starts again.

“No. I like it here.” Sherlock turns to kiss Greg, and he accepts. Peace is what they want, and here they have peace.

**Author's Note:**

> "Bailan" means "they dance" in Spanish.


End file.
